


Take My Heart I'll Take Your Hand

by lesbabeths (nixy_stix)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Post-The Last Olympian, Pre-The Heroes of Olympus, curse of achilles, i'm really angry about heroes of olympus, percabeth being percabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4499574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nixy_stix/pseuds/lesbabeths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How vulnerable is vulnerable, exactly?" :: Annabeth struggles to deal with how to be the only one in the world who can kill the person she loves, Percy and Annabeth do some experimenting with the Curse of Achilles, and push the boundaries a little bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Heart I'll Take Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> One of my biggest issues with the new series is how the Curse of Achilles was so quickly dismissed. I would have loved to see it developed more. This isn’t smut, there’s nothing more objectionable in here than some making out on the couch, but it’s… still quite intimate, and the subject matter is sort of heavy. Mortality and love and being the only one in the world who is able to kill the person you love and all that. And it? Kind of sounds like they’re having sex? But they’re really not it’s just that it would be really easy to picture this exact scenario except sex instead of mythical curses. It’s kind of an allegory for sex. Just—proceed with caution, I guess, I’d hate to make anyone uncomfortable, and there are quite a lot of young people in this fandom.

Lazy evenings are probably the best part of Percy’s life nowadays, namely when Annabeth is involved. He doesn’t get to see her as much as he would like (which is, like, all the time), between her schoolwork and his schoolwork and, of course, Olympus. And when he does, there’s usually someone else around (his mother), and even though she’s pretty good about giving them space, it just isn’t the same when you know someone else is in the next room over, and might be overhearing snippets of your conversation. So when his mom _does_ leave them alone, he has to snatch up those quiet moments as quickly as he can.

They don’t really _do_ anything. Usually when Annabeth comes over after school it involves homework, to Percy’s chagrin, and a lot of teasing and laughing, and she usually ends up staying for dinner. Percy is exhausted all of the time now anyway, and doesn’t really have it in him to do much more than lounge around after the schoolwork is finished. It’s hard, with the curse weighing him down, especially because this is only the second year of his academic life that Percy actually tried to achieve anything. It really takes a toll on him, even with his mother constantly praising him and Annabeth’s encouragement.

Tonight, they end up lying on the couch, watching _The Office_ and not really paying attention. He’s drawing loose circles on the outside of her hipbone, her back pressed against his chest and her head in the crook of his neck, and there’s something so perfect about the languid moment that Percy doesn’t think he ever wants to move again. So when Annabeth cranes her neck to look up at him, he’s not exactly thrilled, which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. She rolls her eyes and sighs, “What time are your parents getting home?”

Percy shrugs, which is actually kind of difficult with Annabeth’s weight partially on top of him. “They said they’d be out till ten-ish.”

Annabeth turns her head again to check the clock, then straightens and sits up. Percy groans and makes a weak grab for her, but she snickers and dodges his hand easily. “Good. I want to try something.”

What exactly she means by that, she doesn’t specify, but Percy sits up faster, staring at her in slight bewilderment. “Um, try… what?”

Annabeth flushes a little bit, so he knows she’s fully aware of what he’s thinking, but she shakes her head marginally.

“I just want to know…” She continues, slowly and softly, “How vulnerable is vulnerable, exactly?”

It takes him a second to process what she means, because he’s a little caught up with the red swell of her lips and the caution in her eyes. “What do—oh. Oh.” He says finally. “I… I don’t know, really.”

It’s true. The curse isn’t something that he likes to mess with, being such a rarity and a potential danger.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well… I want to find out.”

He arches an eyebrow at her. “Find out?”

She blushes again, and it’s a little too adorable to handle in the lieu of such a serious conversation. “Don’t you think we should know? I mean… it’s sort of life or death, Percy,” she says quietly, looking up at him from under her lashes. “It’s also…” her throat bobs nervously, and she turns her hands over in her lap, palms up. “I know that you trust me but I don’t… I don’t trust myself. I need to know so that I’m not afraid of screwing things up.” She stares at her hands and he knows what she’s thinking, that she’s the only one in the world who could kill him right now, just with her bare hands. It’s not like Annabeth to second guess herself, and he can tell that this is something that’s important to her, and has been bothering her for some time now. She doesn’t like to feel unsure of herself, he knows, and this is definitely something that they’re going to have to resolve if they want to avoid more trouble down the road. He isn’t thrilled with the idea of testing his own limits, and coming to terms with his own mortality, but if he’s honest, he knows he’s been sidestepping the seriousness of the issue.

Taking the curse on wasn’t something he took time to really consider. In such dire times, there wasn’t ever really an option. He’d been reckless, perhaps, but in those months leading up to the war he had been strung so tightly, with so much pressure heaped on his shoulders, that he had stopped taking care of himself and protecting his own life. He’d been a tool in their war, he knew he had, and he was so angry about it that he figured he might as well give in. It’s not a decision he’s proud of, and it’s not something he likes to think about. People treat him differently enough now as it is, and people have always treated him differently simply for being Poseidon’s son, and the last thing he wants is one more thing to alienate him from the rest of the demigods. Annabeth is right though, as she nearly always is, and if he wants to start focusing more on himself and their relationship, then this is an issue that he needs to take seriously, and address head on.

He reaches out and grabs them, forcing her fingers to curl in and turning them back over in his. “Annabeth, I know you would never hurt me.”

“I know,” she says quickly. “I just… I need to know.” She looks at him, pleadingly, eyes wide and bright, and how could he ever say no to her, really.

He nods and turns around, crisscrossing his legs and facing his back to her. Annabeth takes a deep breath and slides his t-shirt up his back gently, and he pulls it off over his head.

“Tell me when, okay?” Annabeth whispers, running her hands over his shoulder blades. He nods again and closes his eyes. She moves her hands down, further and further, traveling gently over the exposed skin. He can’t help the sharp intake of breath when she reaches the spot, and she mumbles something apologetically. He isn’t sure what it is that makes him feel so nervous about this. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her. In all honesty, he trusts her far more than he has ever trusted himself. But there is a strange feeling that comes with being completely at the mercy of someone else, and although if he’s really being serious he is always at her mercy, it’s not a position he often finds himself in.

And then she presses. He gasps again and grist his teeth together, because it doesn’t hurt yet, not really, but the sensation is almost too much for his body to handle. He’s not used to being touched this way, and it feels foreign, intimate. Annabeth presses her hands in a little harder, and Percy’s whole body starts to tingle. Harder, and he can feel arcs of energy hissing through his body, in his veins, across his nerves. Again, and his hands balls into fists and his toes clench. And finally—“Now,” he rasps.

Annabeth releases the pressure immediately and curls her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling into his neck with her chin. She presses a kiss into his neck and whispers, “okay?”

He nods. “Are you?”

She shifts a little uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I like it. Having that kind of power.”

Annabeth and power is always a funny thing. He knows there’s something in her that craves it, something she can’t always conceal. On the other hand, she doesn’t like it, because she can’t trust herself with it. He’s often wondered how much of it is part of her nature, and how much of it comes from her broken childhood and domineering mother.

“It can be a good thing,” Percy points out, turning around and kissing her on the nose. Annabeth still looks shaken but she raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk playing on the corners of her lips. “Yeah?”

He kisses her in reply, swiftly and more hungrily than usual. Annabeth leans backwards a little and Percy presses his hand into the small of her back, keeping her upright. She laughs lightly against his mouth, and oh my gods, oh my gods, he adores her, he absolutely adores her.

Loosely and almost lazily, Annabeth’s arms circle around him again, running up the top of his spine. He straightens up again and Annabeth leans forward, breaking the kiss. He stretches his legs around her waist and rests his chin lightly on her shoulder while Annabeth repeats the same motion, but stronger this time, surer. And this is the Annabeth he knows, this is the Annabeth who knows what she’s doing and does it well, does it perfectly.

His whole body is shaking, fingers clenching and unclenching in Annabeth’s hair. She turns her head a little and kisses him on the cheek, and then adds even more pressure. He yelps a little, more from the unexpectedness then the sensation. Shudders are wracking his body now, and he thinks there might be black creeping into the edges of his vision, but he doesn’t want her to stop. Doesn’t want to frighten her. Doesn’t mind the sensation, doesn’t feel afraid. Trusts her. Trusts her implicitly, with everything in his being, maybe even more than is healthy for someone so young, but then, Annabeth and him are far from normal teenagers, and this is far from an average teenage romance.

Annabeth pushes a little harder, and that’s all he can take. He grits his teeth and cries out hoarsely, fingers twisting through her hair. His mind goes blank and he falls limply against Annabeth’s shoulder, trembling.

She hums softly and kisses the top of his head, tracing lightly across his shoulder blades with her fingers. “I love you,” she whispers into his hair.

And he would say it back, he really would, except that he doesn’t have the energy to do anything but collapse against her anymore.

And that’s how he falls asleep.


End file.
